


Divine Intervention

by Lady_GothiKa



Category: Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition, Elder Scrolls
Genre: Crossover, F/M, Humor, elder scrolls fusion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 14:53:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16725513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_GothiKa/pseuds/Lady_GothiKa
Summary: In a world where spirits and demons are often confused, a young elven healer travels to place she never could have dreamt existed.Her only regret is, she took J'zargo with her.





	Divine Intervention

**1**

 

 

 

“J’zargo didn’t expect,” The young khajiit mage coughed wiping his feline nose against the golden sleeved robes. “There -” again he filled the air sending clouds of ash amongst the large open room, “to be so much… dust-achoo!”

Lywen shook her head, pulling her scarf around her neck back over her mouth and nose. “By Azura stop being such a scrib!” She huffed annoyed, finally lighting a touch amongst the decay and rouble. Every last Septim of hers was gone, a boat ride here alone cost more than she made in three months. But the bounty would be worth the work, it had to be, Vvardenfell had been mostly empty for years and now even the best spots for savaging were left open to the fearless and the brave.

Tel Mora is where she had longed to see, the once magnificent home of Telvanni-held islands now stood before her own eyes. To think just over two hundred years ago this place once beamed and thrived with some of the most powerful mages of Tamriel, now it was only ash and dust abandoned to time. However, that also meant treasures had to have been left behind as well.

That’s where she gained a friend of sorts from Skyrim’s very own college Winterhold. They had met in a small inn on the border of Blacklight, from what she had gathered he had come across his own problems on the road with the law and was now hiding out till he could ‘escape his klepto paws.’ In all honesty, she only assumed he was simply here to gain enough to gold to pay his fine and perhaps go to Cyrodiil, their Arcane University there is far better anyhow, and with enough leverage, he himself could pass the whole seven recommendations.

It didn’t sound like a bad idea even to her own elven ears, despite Lywen herself had been kicked out of the Arcane University four years prior after experimenting with black soul gems and rare diseases such as sanguinare vampiris and lycanthropy which ended up almost as frowned upon as studying necromancy. Hence she was expelled from Mages Guild before she could say…

 

“AH, watch the tail!”

 

Lywen groaned watching her step. “Sorry.” She could barely see in front of herself little alone mind setting poor J’zargo’s tail on fire. He grabbed his tail, holding it within his paw like hands as he wandered closer to the light, his whiskers glittering with the stale air.

“Go left.” He pointed, “J’zargo can smell the gold,” He sniffs again. “And scrolls,” he muttered before sneezing now three times throwing the dust backup at herself, stinging her eyes red raw.

“While you’re at it, mind sniffing us out some supper?” The elven woman sighs, it’s been far too long since either had enjoyed a hot meal in days, the taste of bread and cheese could only suffice for so long.

He laughed, as much a starved cocky Khajiit could chuckle. “Ha, yes. J’zargo will put his good senses to work.” His whiskers trembled with his large wet nose. “Nothing my friend, only the strong allure of strapping Khajiit and Bosmer feet amongst all the smells of moldy books, pitty. Do you think this fungus is edible, J’zargo would be interested in a mushroom stew, perhaps a crust?”

Her stomach growls at the notion of stew. “My feet smell exceptional I’ll have you know.”

“That’s what all elves say and all elves are wrong.”

“Well, considering this place used to be full of elves.”

“Ah, true my friend - maybe that’s why it is so bad.” He mumbled, “- head right.”

The torch changed direction leading into a main hall of sorts with a winding root that leads into a higher chamber, where ever that goes, they both wanted to find out.

Ash was now ankle deep, gaining depth the further they walked. “So.” Lywen coughed. “I’ve been meaning to ask, are the rumors true?”

“What rumors does this one speak of, because J’zargo swears by the twin moons he had no idea that moonsugar had been stuffed inside those poor monkey’s, how could one know…”

“Ha, no.” She holds in a snort of a laugh. “I mean the stories of you gallivanting around with one and only dovahkiin.”

“Ah, this one had no idea you had heard such tales. But ahh, they are all false. For the mighty dovahkiin used to gallivant around with J’zargo, not the other way around.”

Finally, the chuckle falls from her covered lips. “Of course! How could I be so blind.”

 

Though everything that came off that khajiit’s tongue she took with a grain of salt, it wouldn’t even be out of character for anything but lies to pour out of J’zargo’s mouth, if he told the truth or didn’t exaggerate for once it would almost be far more disturbing.

“It’s locked.” His mitts tug on a round-handled door barring their path. “Yeah, yeah. Hold the torch.” She rolls her eyes, pulling out a lockpick from her boot. Even after all these years the doors were still locked tight without even a speck of rust. A pin clicks, then another and another, till the last opens the door. It was far darker within this room forcing J’zargo to light ball of flame within his palm.

“The scent is definitely getting stronger, whatever it is, it is coming from this room.”

And J’zargo was right, the whole room was littered with scrolls upon scrolls, littering the high shelves of the room, except for a skulls and candles, Lywen started to light up one at a time as her Khajiit friend stood there in awe of all the ancient relics.

“J’zargo has never seen so many scrolls!” He gushed with a purr on the end of his tongue. Neither had she, not even in her old University, this was something else, something wonderful, hidden, a real gem.

Resting the burning torch to the wall, The elven girl grabbed the first scroll of the far right shelf, dusting off the thick layer of dust and decay, through the scroll remained untouched by age, almost as if it was written yesterday, the ink black and bold, letters magnificent and bright.

“It’s a divine intervention scroll.” she notes, “I have never seen one of these before, I believe they were once used to transport the user to the nearest Imperial cult shrine. It’s strange that so many were left behind, surely they could have been used in the escape.” This whole thing was awfully fishy. Even though maybe it was back up, a sort of new storage that was never used and left behind for when they were ready to once again rebuild and start anew.

“J’zargo has never heard of such scrolls, do you think any Imperial shrines exist left to be used?”

That was a point of its own, all the shrines were probably destroyed like everything else in Vvanderfell after the eruption of Red Mountain. “I don’t know, but I’d if I had to guess, I’d say no.” She shrugged pocketing the scroll into her satchel, watching the Khajiit run his paws over the loose strands of parchment.

Then lifts his head to the side “Do you smell that?”

“No, and if it’s not a hot meal, I don’t care.”

J’zargo stilled, his fur bristled like did before a thunderstorm. “...The smell, it’s like a rotting deer carcass.”

Well, that wasn’t normal.

A grumble groan Lywen began to hear, footsteps crunched over ash, dirt, and rubble, a tall bulky figure moved amongst shadows covered in a thick blanket of ash. Protruding bones and the smell of flesh was now even noticeable to her softer nose.

There were only a few things that could be, but it was the worst of the bunch.

A walking nightmare.

Or more literally, a bonewalker.

“Please get us out of here my friend, J’zargo is too beautiful to die!” The beast stumbled forward, eyes glowing amongst the dying candles. Fear had frozen them solid worse than any rockjoint.

Thumb

_Slide_

Thumb

_Slide_

Thumb

 

**Groan**

 

“Auriel - Akatosh, Arkay, Mara.” Lywen grabbed the scrolls from her pouch. “Divines, deliver us somewhere safer!”

“Oh, Azura.”

“Ohhh, Azura.”

Fingers gripped at bunches of grass, nausea swamped her head and tossed her stomach around like it never had before. Where was she?

Where was J’zargo?

She called out for the missing feline standing out in the middle of nowhere, no landmarks, no statues, no buildings, no ash either or distinct plants that could tell her anything about the location she had now fallen flat faced into.

“J’zargo?!” Lywen called again, patting down the rips her pants and pulling at the scarf around her neck.

Until she heard a voice, soft, subtle, far gentler than perusal. “My friend, oh. J’zargo doesn’t feel...so well.” She heard what sounded like a heave of a stomach, yet stranger more animalistic even for a khajiit.

She gasps “J’zargo?”

“Yes, why is this one looking so…” His eyes blink looking down. “J’zargo doesn’t remember having such small hands…”

“They aren’t hands, those are paws.”

“Oh.” He purrs for a second, moving now on four legs instead of two. “This is - not good.”

Well.

She sighs looking down at the ginger cat at her feet. “It could be worse I suppose.”

“Ah, but this one is still handsome, yes?” J’zargo whiskers prickled with his small pouted cheeks and large blinking eyes.

“Oh very.” Her lips pulled to the side. “Very handsome indeed - for ah.” She laughed, trying to find the proper term, khajiit physiology was never one of her favorite topics “alfiq.”

 

J’zargo pulled a sour look, “J’zargo is not ah - ah..” the poor khajiit seemed to partly clueless himself. “Alfiq-raht.” He finally huffed. “J’zargo is slightly taller.”

Of course, Lywen pinched her brows. “I suppose we should just be grateful that become lunch for that bonewalker,” She huffed looking around, “Do you have any clue as to where we are?”

She was half amused when saw him actually take another sniff of the light summer breeze. “I have never smelt this air before - it is strange to this one’s senses.”

Helpful, so very helpful.

 

 

Wherever they were the green pastures looked boundless beyond measure. Hours had passed since they had started their journey, and yet still it had seemed like it was going on forever, but even more so where the faint hints along the way that they had strayed just a little too far away from any known place.

“I still can’t figure out what this plant is.” Lywen pondered down at the dense, green stem adorned with vibrant leaves. She could have sworn by the Nine this was some outlandish plant, despite more than abundant it was; it simply grew everywhere the eye could see. “And even if I had to guess - I would say, no it couldn’t be -” She stopped herself, breaking off the roots.

“Yes, yes.” J’zargo hissed impatiently. “It smells like nirnroot, but J’zargo does not eat nirnroot -”

She sighed rolling her eyes, “Yes, I understand. I am starved too -”

Before she could finish something had caught both of their eyes, even enough to have her plant drop straight out of her hand.

A house, thank Azura.

It was a small timber cottage that stood alone by itself. Lywen knocked twice against the door and yet no answer came before it.

“Blast it.” The hungry khajiit shook his tail and snarling his tiny teeth. “Open the door elf, let this one in.”

“No.” The girl shook her head and crossed her arms. “I will not resort to petty theft, this is someone’s home! I will hunt something If it comes to it.”

The khajiit didn’t seem to catch her words, J’zargo jumped up onto the window frame and stuck inside.

“J’zargo - what are you - get back here!”

Moments of silence past, except for a few single breathless grunts. “Open the door my friend, this one is bearing gifts.”

She sighed rubbing her brow, turning briefly to see if anyone was around. It seemed clear. “You thieving little swit!” J’zargo was carrying a whole loaf of bread in his jaws, mumbling something couldn’t understand.

“You can’t just… can’t.” by Azura, she felt famished. “Fine, we’ll eat it, but you better feel the utmost remorse afterward.”

“Ah yes, J’zargo will pray to the twin moons and cry soft tears upon his stolen bread.” He purred sarcastically.

She could have hit him for that, or better yet strang a collar around his scrawny little neck.

It took only minutes for the whole loaf to be completely eaten, shockingly for an alfiq-rah J’zargo could sure still stuff that face of his, even if it five times smaller and gone from six foot to below her knee, and into the standard image of a rather regular looking ginger house cat.

But regardless, his current state didn’t seem to have stopped any of his usual habits.

“I suppose we should try to find you some mages to help you get back to your regular form, I doubt I’ll be able to do it by myself.” She said to him, quietly pondering in the back of her head exactly how this actually happens in the first place.

“Ah yes, perhaps we should head north to the university, someone there should be able to return J’zargo back to his handsome hind legs.”

That was all good and well, but she had a bad feeling about this place, something about it didn’t feel right in a way she couldn’t quite place. “Believe this not, but I do not believe we are Cyrodiil.”

“Huh.” The khajiit turned to her, farrowing what brows he had. “J’zargo has seen Cyrodiil in the pictures of his books -”

Yes, it looked very similar… except for the plants she had never seen before that made Lywen doubt they were anywhere near any imperial provinces. “Yes, well I lived in Cyrodiil for years and this is not Cyrodiil.”

“That was when you were staying at the University, yes?”

“Quite,” She responded softly in thought, “but it’s more than that, I studied alchemy for years - I could have sworn I read almost every book on the subject, yet all these plants are entirely unrecognizable!”

“Truly?” J’zargo looked around at the empty fields. “This one thought you studied nasty diseases.”

Lywen almost scoffed. “No, you silly cat, that was - uh… well, a bit of curiosity that just got the better of me.” Even though it got her expelled, she never did regret taking such risky measures in healing beyond the sick.

“And regardless.” The elf took a stand. “You are worse than any disease that could grow on me J’zargo, so excuse me while I find an ointment.”

 

The khajiit laughed as she grabbed her bow that had been slung around her shoulder, once again tying her scarf around her mouth and nose. “I am going hunting, stay put and if anyone sees you act like a house cat or run up a tree or something.” She shook her head.

If there was anything that cat could actually do it was put on an act, or simply put; lie through his fangs.

 

 

The further she wandered the more she had come to the conclusion, she hated these plants that were growing everywhere without names that could not be placed. What were they? They were driving her insane.

There was also no sign of elk nor deer anywhere too, this was most peculiar.

She crouched, bow in hand, the wind whipped up and gathered the loose strands of her copper hair through the air. Something was going on, she could feel it in the pits of her stomach. Darkened clouds were gathering over ahead, but neither seemed swollen with rain.

Lywen turned her head as a shock wave pushed down the grass from meters away. Yes, she could see it now - a violent emerald spark erupting in the sky.

_What in oblivion was that?_

Her feet inched closer, curious and unsure what she had discovered, so she moved in stealth before her eyes could get a better look of whatever was causing such a strange anomaly.

A man, a human man, she saw. He was dressed in steel plated embroidered robes with a staff in hand, swinging it to-and-fro. Lightning sparked from the end and cracked to the ground generating its own roaring thunder.

Suddenly she caught the glimpse of another figure, massive and horned, unlike anything she had ever seen. Lywen gasped speechless and in utter awe of the mysterious being who almost resembled minotaur but far more humanoid.

Whatever it may be, it was simply marvelous, if only she had brought her journal to get a quick sketch of the magnificent creature before her own eyes.

Another shock wave pierced the ground, purple, blue - than a flash that froze the air to the hairs on the tip of her arms passed like a speeding arrow.

She needed to get closer.

“Be ready, more are coming!” A woman yelled at the bottom of her lungs just as the anomaly flashed in the sky bright enough to cast its own form of light. An explosion poured from the rip, green, yellow, black, the elf felt breathless. There were actual creatures falling from the tear in the sky!

“What in --…”

Fingers gripped tightly around her bow and an arrow drawn from the quiver as she moved towards the gathering party, fighting the twisted beings oozing from the sky. Another blast hit the ground, this time not from the man but the green anomaly with a force strong enough to push the man in the robes meters from where he once stood.

Blood, so much blood, it was pouring from his leg after he hit the ground with such a heavy force.

He needed help without delay.

The elf ran as fast as her legs would take her.

“Hold still.” she grabbed the man’s leg, his face was ghostly white and his hair slipping from his hood appeared to be a mess of honey curls. “What’s your name, sir?” She tried to keep him talking as applied pressure to the steady stream of blood pulsing through gaps of her fingers.

“Er, crap -” The man hissed through his teeth surely in a decent amount of pain. “Eric - Eric Trevelyan.”

“I saw your lightning display just before Sir, it was truly like nothing I had ever seen.” She kept him talking, pulling the scarf from her face before wrapping hard around the injured man’s lower leg. “My name is Lywen by the way, I am sorry we have to meet on such dire circumstances.”

When he saw her face she could have sworn he turns even lighter. “Love - you’re - you’re an elf?”

Oh,

that explains it.

“Fret not, I do not work for the Thalmor. Please hold still sir - this will sting.”

Lywen’s fists slowly coiled with a warm amber light.

Restoration magic was something she was similar with but potions she was lacking were always preferred.

“Oh, Andraste… tell me you know what you’re doing.”

“Well, lucky for you I-”

The magic had only barely touched his skin when she felt the cold kiss of steel threaten the back of her neck. “Unhand the Inquisitor apostate. Solas come quickly!”

The woman she had heard before had pushed Lywen back onto her knees, sword fastened in her hand, ready to strike her down in flash. “I am sorry. I…” She gulped. “He needs help - I am trained in the healing arts!”

Even through bindings, she had fastened around his leg the blood was still seeping out without pause, he needed help. Now.

“Ma’am, please you must see reason!” Lywen begged the mysterious dark-haired woman. “He’s going to bleed to death!”

A man rushed past her, bald head and two striking elven ears.

“Solas,”

“Hold on Seeker-” The elven man gripped the wound. His magic was different, nothing like she had ever seen, but somehow far more strained. Possibly from the battle before, he seemed to have noticed it as well.

“What you said before, are you positive of your abilities?” He turned and faced her, alarm ringing high in his tone.

“Yes! Of course!”

“Seeker please, this not the time to pass judgment.”

The woman’s face shifted, a way of saying ‘So be it.’ without actually declaring it out loud.

Swiftly she rushed back to the injured man, he wasn’t talking anymore, but shifting in and out of consciousness. “Inquisitor,” Solas called, “Can you hear me?”

He looked back almost shaken.

There was no more time that could be spared, it had to be now.

Magicka once again flourished in her palms.

“Please, make sure he doesn’t move.” The elven girl declared while her outlandish magic engulfed around the fresh wound, prompting the blood to slowly come to stand while the leg to gently corrected itself before she heard the snap from inside giving the all unsubtle hint that the broken bone was forming back together again; accompanying the split tissue and the outer layer of flesh

Relief now waved over her, along with the looks of the man’s traveling companions.

“Solas -” He was speaking again, thank Azura. Lywen could finally breathe again. _“If I die… tell Vivienne I always hated that hat..”_

Well, she was glad he was making a full recovery.

Whoever this strange man actually was...

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> J'zargo would assume this was a bad idea.
> 
> If J'zargo had bad ideas....


End file.
